If I could make a list of all the questions I would like to ask God, it would be a really long list, probably similar in length to the list Santa makes and checks twice.
Of course, I’d ask those classical questions, like, ‘Hey God, why do bad things happen to good people?’ Then, I might throw out some other questions, like, ‘Yo Lord, what do you look like; where do you live?’ Being the brooding fellow I am, I’d inevitably have to know what ‘truth’ is, and I’d clear up all those times I’d spent pondering the complexities of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. I’d want to know why it is we’re never satisfied and why it is we hurt so much, so easily. I’d want to know why God made us and what is we’re really here for; what good we are to Him. I’d ask why he chose blue for the sky and why the grains of sand were so many and so small. I’d ask where I came from. I’d ask where I’m going. I’d ask why faith is such a hard thing to grasp and why I seem to be made not to always get it right. I’d ask why – when everything seemed to be going good – so many still found themselves upset about something. My list would never end. My list would be as numerous as those grains of sand themselves.
Funny…God says he has all those grains counted…just like the hairs on my head.
If I could make a list of all the questions I would like to ask God, yes, it would be a very long list, indeed. I can’t say I have any slight clue what any of His answers might be. I mean, I can pick up a Bible and quote it, but even the Devil can do that. I mean, I can tell you what Dante thought, and I can quote C.S. Lewis as quickly as I can quote Karl Barth or Friedrich Schleiermacher or the Pope himself. But I can’t quote God, and I don’t know what He would say. I just know what I would ask Him.
Funny though…I have a slight nudge, a funny feeling…that His answer to every one of those questions as numerous as the grains of sand could be summed up with just one little thing. Maybe that thing would be Love. I’d certainly like to think so. Maybe that thing would be a Hug. I could certainly use one of those. I can’t really even pin that much down, though, but I do think that for all the questions I have, God wouldn’t have a million different responses. He wouldn’t need to. He would just have one response.
…and who knows – maybe that one response has already come. Maybe His name was Jesus. Maybe my questions…were already answered…couple thousand years ago.
Maybe it’s not about the questions at all. Maybe that’s the point – it’s not about questions. It’s about a man who loved me and loved you and had us both counted, like those grains of sand, and He loved us enough to go ahead and prepare things for us. …loved us so much, he stretched out his arms on that rood and answered all the questions that mattered, all the questions that had been asked.
Maybe I should make a list…but not a list of questions. Maybe I should make a list of my own answers, of things I can do. …of things I should do. Maybe I could make a really long list, one as long as the one Santa reads over twice, of why I’m loved and of why I love.